Beautiful Swan
by catharticone
Summary: Bella decides to experiment with some of Alice's beauty products, but the results are not exactly what she hoped for...
1. Chapter 1

_**Note**_:_ I wish to express my sincere thanks to those who left reviews for my last story, "Turnabout." I apologize for failing to respond to some of you. I've been having computer issues, but I will try to reply to everyone as soon as I can.  
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_This story is set between **Twilight** and **New Moon**…_

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><p>I should have realized that it was rarely wise to try to thwart Alice's well-orchestrated plans. But for some reason I thought I could circumvent her machinations while still obtaining the desired end result. I could almost hear Edward's affectionately exasperated voice saying, "Silly Bella" as I sat miserably contemplating the considerable mess caused by my clumsy efforts.<p>

I sighed and surveyed the damage on the countertop and floor around me. With a little time and effort, the chaos was reparable. I knew I could clean it all up. However, I hardly dared to lift my eyes—eye, actually, to be more precise—to look in the mirror, because the debacle that would meet my gaze would be much harder to repair.

"Here goes nothing," I murmured, then steeled myself to look up at the disaster staring back at me.

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><p>It really was Alice's fault… mostly. She was the one who had convinced me that Edward thought I looked beautiful whenever she did my hair and make-up. She reminded me of his expression when he first saw me prepared for the prom. It was true that he'd been a bit awe-struck, but at the time I'd thought it was just the overall effect of the dress, the single stiletto, and the dramatic cosmetic choices.<p>

Yet the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if his expression had reflected surprise that I _could_ look that good. Compared to his sisters and Esme, I was utterly plain, barely better than homely. Recently I'd seen a photo of the Denali clan, and the three female members were stunning. I still remembered our brief conversation on the subject.

"They're gorgeous," I'd murmured as I stared at the picture.

"Mmm, yes, gorgeous," Edward had replied. Just like that. No argument, no comments about false perfection or soulless beauty: Just a few murmured words to agree with what I'd said.

I couldn't seem to stop thinking about that small interchange. Maybe flawlessness was what Edward expected in a woman; maybe external beauty was important to him after all. I briefly debated asking Alice to help me with some relatively simple and subtle cosmetic and hair suggestions. But flashbacks of uncomfortable hours in her make-up chair made me cringe. As fun as that time was for her, it was the polar opposite for me. All the attention and intent focus on me were enough to make me squirm, both physically and mentally.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I spent a little time at the local drugstore's cosmetics counter, debating which products would beautify me best. But even the handful of items I picked out were expensive as a whole, and I couldn't really justify spending that much money on something so trivial. Besides, Alice owned nearly as many cosmetics as a small department store, and probably much higher-end brands, too, all neatly stocked in her spacious bathroom. She'd told me more than once that I was welcome to use anything I wanted, and I knew she wouldn't mind if I borrowed a few things.

I waited until I was certain Alice would be gone for an entire day. I didn't want to risk her foreseeing my plan and trying to worm her way into 'helping' me. My opportunity came when she, Esme, and Rosalie decided to go to San Francisco for the weekend to attend some sort of fashion event. Well, Esme would spend most of the time at the museums, but she would be gone nonetheless. Alice had invited me to join them, of course. However, I had a history paper to complete, so I had a good excuse to bow out of the excursion.

Emmett and Jasper had planned an overnight hunting trip, convincing Edward to accompany them for the first part. He wouldn't leave me for an entire night, but he finally agreed to join his brothers for the afternoon then return in the evening to be with me.

Still, I needed an excuse to be at the Cullens' house while they were gone, and luckily the history paper provided a good one. A significant percentage of my grade would be based on the project, so it was an important one.

Using my dinosaur of a computer for research would add hours to my Internet searches.

I asked Edward if I could come over and use his laptop, and maybe borrow a book or two, while he was hunting. Jasper had hundreds of history texts in the family's library. Edward offered to stay and help me, but I told him that I needed to do the work on my own. It was another one of those human experiences, I reminded him, and he didn't want me to miss it, did he? Begrudgingly he agreed to go on the hunt but made me promise to call him if I needed him.

I arrived at his house just before noon on Saturday. He, Emmett, and Jasper were getting ready to leave. Edward made sure the computer was set up for me and told me that he'd stocked some of my favorite foods and beverages in the kitchen, then asked if there was anything he could do.

"Just have a good time," I told him. "You deserve it."

He kissed me, ignoring Emmett's snickers and Jasper's contented smile.

"Good luck on the paper, love," Edward said. "I'll be back by six. Carlisle's working until five, so you should have the house to yourself until just before I return."

I grinned. My plan was working out almost too well… "Okay. I'll probably get a lot done!"

He kissed me once again then left. I scurried to his room and slipped my flash drive into his computer. I'd actually finished most of the paper, working on it during the smattering of hours when I wasn't with him. I spent a couple of hours adding a few details from two of Jasper's books and modifying my reference list, then sent the document to the printer.

Satisfied with the results, I set the pages on Edward's desk and walked down the hall to Alice and Jasper's room. I felt a tiny bit strange entering their bedroom, but I tried not to look around or be nosy, instead heading straight for the bathroom. I devoted quite some time to looking through all of the make-up choices. I knew that many of the items were things Alice had purchased specifically for me. Even so, I didn't plan to use much of anything, so she'd probably never even know I'd borrowed them. If Edward seemed to like the results, I would try to find similar products at the drug store.

I finally selected a natural-looking powdered blush, a pretty pale plum eye shadow and darker plum eye liner, black mascara, and light rose lip gloss. Alice had about two dozen different bottles of foundation. I wondered if I should use one of them. I peered critically at my reflection in the mirror. I'd always been fortunate to have fairly clear skin, but it wasn't flawless. Was it as smooth as it could be, I wondered?

I'd noticed several tubes and bottles of various cleansers. I studied the labels and information on each one for some time, deciding that I should begin with an exfoliant. Revealing brighter skin sounded like a good idea.

I put my hair up into a ponytail then used a cleansing gel to wash my face thoroughly. Next I rubbed in the exfoliating scrub. It smelled like apricots, but it was rather grainy against my skin. My finger moved a little too close to my eye, and one of the granules rubbed against my lower lid. It hurt, and I had to rinse it off with lots of cool water.

I dried my face then looked in the mirror. My skin was rather red, probably from the scratchy cleansing scrub, so I waited until my complexion was a little more even. The redness faded after a few minutes, except for a small patch on my neck, just beneath my jaw. I realized that a bit of the scrub still clung there, so I washed it off then began to take down my hair.

As the strands fell onto my shoulders, I wondered if I should do something besides just brushing it out. I remembered seeing a curling iron and hot rollers in the cabinet beneath the sink. A bit of waviness and extra body would probably be nice in my normally straight hair.

I retrieved the devices and plugged them both in, then I began to work on my face. My first attempt at foundation came out uneven and streaky, so I washed it off and tried again. The second attempt was not much better, and now my skin felt sort of oily from the make-up. I found a bottle of astringent and used a couple of saturated cotton balls to remove the offending substance. The astringent stung a bit, so I decided I wouldn't use it again.

I finally settled for a light, slightly iridescent powder instead of foundation. I dabbed it over my cheeks, chin, and forehead, satisfied with the overall look.

The distinct smell of something hot alerted me to the readiness of the curling implements.

I'd never used hot rollers before, but I remembered seeing Renee put them in her hair a couple of times when I was young. Gingerly I picked up the largest one, awkwardly rolling a chunk of hair around it. I slid the wire holder on, wincing when I missed and it jabbed me in the neck. I tried again with slightly more success.

Soon I had rollers all over my head. I looked ridiculous, but it was all in the name of beauty. I gave my head a little shake, just for fun because it was amusing to see the curlers bobbing around. Unfortunately, this action dislodged one, and I reached for another one of the holders.

"Ouch!" I shrieked, pulling my hand away. I had inadvertently touched the hot curling iron when I thrust my hand out for the holder. I shook my hand and sighed. Maybe the curling iron wasn't such a good idea after all. I unplugged it and decided to focus on my eyes.

I started with the pale plum eye shadow, but it looked unflattering, making my eyes appear bruised. I rummaged around for the eye makeup remover and wiped a wet cotton ball over my lids. I selected a smokier shade next, but I was still unhappy with the results. I grabbed the cotton ball and rubbed it over my eye again.

Ow! It stung terribly. I looked at the puff of cotton to find that I'd accidentally taken the one I'd used to remove the scrub from my neck. Exfoliating scrub plus eyelids equaled pain. I used a clean washcloth to gently wipe it away.

Maybe I would just settle for some eyeliner. I took a pencil and began to move it along under my left eye, but suddenly I felt a burning sensation at my temple. The hot rollers were, inexplicably, getting hotter, not cooling down as they were supposed to do. My hand jerked, leaving a dark line inside my lower lid. It stung terribly.

I needed to get it off as soon as possible, so I reached for the cotton ball with the eye make-up remover on it then wiped it over my lower lid. It stung even more! Blinking back tears, I tried to focus on what I was doing. Was it even possible that I'd grabbed the wrong cotton ball once again? Yes, it was. I'd rubbed astringent over my eyelid.

Hastily I began to splash water on my face, but then I wondered if that would ruin the rollers. They seemed to be getter even hotter, so I decided my first priority was to remove them. When I touched the first one, I yelped in pain. It really was hot! I could feel my scalp prickling with the heat, and the rollers against my nape and neck were extremely uncomfortable.

Fumbling to work as quickly as possible, I pulled the rollers from my hair, tossing them randomly on the counter and even letting a few fall to the floor. My hair was steaming now, and my fingers stung from the contact with the evil rollers. There was definitely something wrong with the equipment, but I didn't take the time to question what it was.

Once the small implements of torture were out of my hair, I returned my efforts to my tearing, stinging eye. I bent over the sink to put handfuls of water on it until the deep stinging subsided slightly. But it still hurt, and my vision was all blurry. I could feel that my eyelid was beginning to swell.

With a pained sigh, I straightened, taking a step back to reach for a towel. I didn't realize my foot hand landed on one of those infernal hot rollers until I found myself scrabbling to maintain my balance. I was not successful, of course, and landed on my back on the Italian tile floor. The breath left me in a huge whoosh.

Somehow I had managed to take the towel with me, dragging it over the counter and gathering all the open bottles and cases in its wake. A dozen containers scattered around me, most breaking as they spewed their contents all over the floor.

I lay amid the debris for a long time. My eye still stung terribly, and my nape, ears, and scalp prickled from the contact with the hot rollers. Truthfully, my entire face felt funny, and I couldn't resist reaching up to scratch frantically at a very hot, itchy spot on my neck.

Finally I found the strength to sit up slowly. I had pressed a hand over my eye without even thinking. I surveyed the damage all around me, moving my head from side to side to accommodate the use of only one eye. I'd made a mess. How I'd managed to open all of those containers, let alone shatter and spill the majority of them on the floor, remained something of a mystery to me.

Shakily I got to my feet. It was time to see what else I'd wrought. The countertop was a mess, too, with foundation splattered across the pristine marble, used cotton balls and hot rollers everywhere, and several toppled bottles of various liquids that were beginning to drip onto the floor.

I bent to sop up some of the multi-colored fluids with a fluffy towel, realizing too late that it was one of Alice's best linens. It was probably ruined now. I sighed wearily and heaved myself up once again.

I needed to look in the mirror, to find out exactly what sort of damage I'd inflicted on myself, but I dreaded seeing it. It would be bad; I knew that much. I kept my eyes on the counter for a few minutes, building up the nerve to glance up at my reflection. I couldn't do it.

I slumped before the mirror, head hanging nearly as low as my spirits. I was in a mess, and I had no idea what to do.

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**_Note:_ **Now the clean up begins! There will be one more chapter after this one.

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><p>With a few murmured words to steel myself, I tried unsuccessfully to gather my courage to look into the mirror. And then I was saved.<p>

"Bella?"

Carlisle's soft, soothing voice was nearby. He was always so calm, so collected, so willing to help. Without hesitation, I replied, "In here."

"Alice's bathroom?" he questioned.

"Um, yes, she said I could borrow her make-up and stuff…" My voice trailed off. Suddenly I realized just how intrusive I'd been. What if Carlisle was angry with me for using this daughter's things and destroying half of them in the process?

"Is everything all right?" he asked. He was just outside the door now. Luckily I had closed it when I first came into the room.

"Uh… yes, fine," I stammered. But it wasn't, and I didn't really know what to do. My eye was seriously hurting and swelling, and I worried that I'd really injured myself.

"All right," he replied amiably.

"Carlisle—" I took a deep breath and gathered my courage. "Wait."

"Yes, Bella?"

"I think…" I swallowed at the tightness in my throat. "I think I need your help."

He waited about two seconds then asked softly, "May I come in?"

I closed the eye that was currently functional and said, "Yes."

I heard the door open then his sharp intake of breath.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered. "I didn't mean to… I was just trying out a couple of things, and I don't know what happened, but—"

His cool hands came to rest lightly upon my shoulders. "Sshh. Don't worry, Bella. This can all be cleaned up. What I need to know is if you're all right."

I opened my good eye (my hand still covered the other one) to peer up at his concerned face through my tears. "I don't think so," I admitted in a tiny voice.

He took my wrist and lowered my hand to reveal my eye, frowning momentarily at whatever he saw. Then he composed himself and said very calmly, "Come with me, dear."

"But I have to clean all of this up!" I protested mildly.

"We'll take care of it later. Right now we need to take care of you."

His arm looped around my back, and he led me out of the room, away from the battle zone. We walked down the long hallway, but instead of turning toward Edward's room, as I'd expected, we continued on to the doorway I recalled led to Carlisle's and Esme's suite.

He steered me through the beautifully decorated room and into the large bathroom. I noticed idly that it had a huge tub and a separate, spacious stall shower. He lifted me quickly to sit upon the counter then said, "I need to get a few things. I'll only be a minute. Don't touch your eye again."

I nodded, wondering if I could finally muster the courage to turn and look into the mirror. The answer was no. Carlisle vanished, and I sat stiffly, fighting the urge to press my hand over my aching eye. I settled for scratching vigorously at the prickly patch on my neck.

"Bella," Carlisle said, his tone one of mild admonishment as he stepped back into the room, "please, don't."

Abashed, I lowered my hand to my lap and forced it to remain there. He offered me a thin smile then began arranging various items on the counter beside me. I decided that I didn't really want to see what they were; I would find out soon enough.

I kept my gaze on his arms. He had rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt, and his pale hands moved at inhuman speed over the countertop. Watching out of one eye made me feel a little dizzy, so I looked down at my own clumsy human hands instead.

Suddenly Carlisle was right in front of me. I could feel the light chill of his body against my legs and arms. One cool finger lifted my chin, and he brushed the hair away from my face with his other hand.

"Is your vision blurry?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied dejectedly.

He nodded then very gently touched the lower lid of my injured eye, easing it down so that he could peer at the damage. He was keeping his expression composed, so I hoped the injury wasn't too bad. But even his soft touch brought more pain to my eye, and I forced myself not to flinch back.

He reached for a cotton swab and said, "Stay very still, Bella."

"Okay," I whispered.

I felt his fingers slide around to cup the back of my head as his thumb continued holding my eye open. Then the swab dipped in, and the pain flared. I twitched, but Carlisle's hand held me steady. The sharp stinging diminished a little, and I realized that he had removed the swab and was now bringing a clean gauze pad to my eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed gently, and when I did I felt him daubing lightly beneath the injured area.

"I'm going to flush your eye to remove any traces of other irritants," he told me, his unruffled, unhurried voice very soothing to my frazzled nerves.

I gave a quick nod of acknowledgment, then he tilted my head back and asked me to open my eyes again. He held the left eye open and squeezed in something clear that burned like heck. But I managed to remain motionless, and Carlisle told me that I was doing well.

After what felt like several minutes, but was probably only 10 or 15 seconds, he held another gauze pad lightly over my eye. His thumb stroked my forehead gently, and I realized I was feeling calmer now. My eye still hurt, but the stinging pain had relented into a dull sort of ache.

He moved the pad away then examined my eye carefully with an ophthalmoscope. When he finally drew back, I could see that his pleased smile was genuine.

"You had a small piece of eyeliner in your eye," he informed me, "and something you used abraded the sclera—the white part. But all traces of foreign matter are gone now, and there are no corneal abrasions. It should heal quickly. I'm going to put some antibiotic drops in your eye, and you'll need to use them three times a day for the next week, but I don't think you'll have any problems. Your lower lid is also scratched and irritated, and there's some swelling. The drops will help prevent infection, and I'll give you some cream to apply, too."

"Thanks," I replied, my cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

He offered me another smile, this one reflecting sympathy, I thought, then he put the drops in my eye and gently dabbed the cream on my lid. My vision remained a little fuzzy, which worried me.

"Carlisle," I asked as he was disposing of the swabs and gauze, "I still can't see very clearly…"

He turned his head toward me and nodded. "It will take a little while for your vision to clear up. And the swelling will make things a bit distorted, too. It's nothing to worry about."

"Okay," I said with some relief.

Grateful that he'd dealt with the worst of it, I began to slide down from the counter, but his hand shot out to prevent any further movement. I gave him a questioning look.

"There are a few other issues to take care of," he said, his expression odd. I couldn't tell if he was perturbed or amused, or both.

"I think my eye was the only really bad thing," I began.

"It was the worst," he agreed lightly, and before I could ask anything else, he'd begun wiping my face gently with a warm, wet washcloth.

"I can do that," I protested around the soft fabric.

"I'd rather you let me," he replied. "Your skin is quite irritated—I'm not sure what caused it, actually, but this looks like a combination of contact dermatitis and minor abrasions."

He worked carefully, avoiding my left eye but bathing the rest of my face with increasingly cool water. He ran the cloth over my skin several times then dried it with the softest pressure of a fluffy cotton towel. When he was finished, he studied my face intently, occasionally touching a tender spot. My entire face felt sort of tingly and sore, actually.

I could tell Carlisle was trying not to sigh as he finally turned away and took another tube from the counter. There was some sort of gel in this one, and he used his fingertips to rub it over my whole face, minus the vicinity of my injured eye. Whatever it was, it eased the discomfort of my abused skin nicely.

"Thank you," I acknowledged.

His attention had shifted to my neck. He quickly twisted my hair up into a knot on top of my head so that he could scrutinize the exposed skin at my nape and throat. "You've got several minor burns," he informed me.

"Stupid hot rollers," I muttered.

"More like scorching rollers," he murmured, shaking his head.

He dabbed at spots all around my hairline and along the side of my neck with more soothing gel. Then he tilted my chin up so that he could examine the area that had been so itchy before. It was still sort of tingling and stinging, but I had almost gotten used to it.

"I can't even tell what happened here," he said. I knew that anyone else would sound exasperated, but his voice remained calm as ever.

I decided not to rehash the ignominious events, so merely shrugged. Carlisle patted my shoulder comfortingly then cleaned the affected site with antiseptic and applied yet another variety of cream to it.

He had also noticed the burns on my hand and fingers, so he treated those, too, patiently dabbing ointment over each and every one.

Finally he gathered the various tubes in his hands. "I'll send all of these home with you. This one is for the burns, this is for your eye, this is for your face, and use this one on your neck," he instructed lightly.

"Okay."

He had stepped back a bit, and I took this as a signal that it was all right for me to get down. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution, I supposed.

"Um, I think that's everything?" I asked a little cautiously.

"I believe so—"

But his words were interrupted by Edward bursting into the room, a look of pure horror on his beautiful face.

"Bella!" he cried. "Good lord! What the hell happened to you?"

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><p><em>To be concluded...<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Edward's shocked expression and horrified words finally prompted me to turn and glance into the mirror. When I did, I actually shrieked at what I saw. No wonder Edward was so appalled! My left eye was red and swollen, the ointment appearing to seep from it like pus. My entire face was blotchy, and parts looked like I had road rash or something similar. Small burns peppered my neck and hairline, and the patch that I'd irritated and scratched on my neck was raw and angry-looking. Immediately I put my hands over my face and dropped my head.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

Edward's arms slipped around me gently, and he held me to his solid, cool chest. "Are you all right, love?" he asked, his voice less panicked now. He'd probably had a silent conversation with Carlisle and knew that the damage wasn't as bad as it looked—hopefully.

"Yes. I was just… stupid."

"What happened?" he asked, letting me keep my face hidden against his chest.

I peeked out of my good eye to see that Carlisle had left the bathroom. I wasn't sure what he had told Edward; I wasn't even sure if Carlisle really understood the events that had left me looking like a nightmarish clown.

The blush that spread over my cheeks probably made my complexion blotchier than ever. I took a deep breath then said, "I was experimenting with some of Alice's make-up and stuff…"

"This was caused by _make-up_?" Edward asked incredulously, turning my face gently from side to side so that he could study the damage fully. A crease appeared in his perfect brow. "I don't understand, Bella. I see evidence of contact dermatitis, but some of this looks like abrasions, and this," he pointed at one of the spots on my temple where a roller had singed me, "is a burn. So are these." He was examining my neck now. "And what's this from?" The ugly patch beneath my jaw left an unpleasant expression on his face.

"Um, I tried out Alice's hot rollers… but I think there was something wrong with them. They were really, really hot! And I used some exfoliant, but maybe I used too much or something?"

Edward exhaled a sigh. "Why, Bella?"

"Why what?" I replied, perplexed by his response.

"Why did you use all of those things? Did Alice tell you to?" Now he appeared angry.

I shook my head quickly. "No. She doesn't even know about it. I just wanted to see how I'd look if I were pretty…"

His expression suddenly changed to one reflecting both confusion and sadness. "Bella, what on earth are you talking about?" Very, very gently he cupped my cheeks in his cool palms. "You're beautiful."

"Not like those other women," I murmured.

"What other women?" he asked.

"The ones in Denali," I answered. "They're gorgeous, and perfect, and when you were showing me their picture you thought they were so beautiful—"

His thumb moved quickly to caress my lower lip, effectively stopping my stream of words. "What would make you think that?"

"When I said they were gorgeous, you agreed with me right away, and you seemed like you were distracted by their beauty."

I could see him thinking back, replaying the scene in his impeccable memory. Then his mouth curved into that half smile I loved so much. "I wasn't distracted by _their _beauty, love; I was distracted by _yours_."

This literally left me speechless. All I could manage was, "Huh?"

"Bella, everything about you distracts me—your glorious scent, your luscious hair, your expressive and intelligent eyes, your rosy lips, your beautifully blushing skin… I am utterly overwhelmed every time I'm with you. I have to work to make myself focus on other things when we're together. I was absolutely immersed in you when you were looking at those photos. When I said 'gorgeous,' I was talking about _you._"

I saw the truth of his words in the depths of his golden eyes. I couldn't explain it—it was totally incomprehensible to me—but he found me beautiful, just the way I was. Well, not the way I was _now_, but all the rest of the time. It was unbelievable but true.

"Thank you," I said softly, lifting my hand to his face.

He leaned in to kiss me, his lips lingering on mine for a long time. When he finally drew back, his gaze explored my face once again. His brows drew together.

"Yes, I know," I said with a minor eye roll (which caused a twinge in my poor left eye), "not so beautiful at the moment."

He shook his head. "You're always beautiful. I was just thinking that you must be in some pain. Why don't you lie down for a little while?"

"Will you join me?"

"Of course."

He took my hand and led me from the bathroom and through the bedroom. As we passed the door to Alice and Jasper's room, I stopped walking.

"What's wrong, love?" Edward asked me.

"I left a horrible mess in there. I need to clean it up—"

Carlisle abruptly appeared in the doorway. "Already taken care of," he informed us.

"Oh, Carlisle," I cried, "you didn't have to do that. I caused it; I should have been the one to deal with it."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It only took a few minutes. Besides, it gave me a chance to see the products you used so that we'll know which ingredients you should avoid in the future. I'll write out a list and be sure that both you and Alice have copies."

"Thanks," I replied with a grateful smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Embarrassed and silly," I responded.

He chuckled. "I meant your face and eye."

With a shrug, I answered, "They're okay, I guess. Maybe a little sore… but it's my own fault."

"It's really not," Edward said, a touch of remorse in his tone. "And there's no reason for you to be in any discomfort."

"He's right," Carlisle agreed. "I'll bring you some ibuprofen in a few minutes. That should help."

I thanked him again, then Edward took me to his room, where we settled on the couch. Once I'd taken the painkillers, he wrapped a blanket around me and helped me to lie back against his chest. One hand stroked my hair, and soon my eyelids grew heavy. I fell asleep to a heart-breakingly tender rendition of "Beautiful Dreamer" lovingly hummed just for me.

Alice's shrilly distressed voice jolted me awake. I felt Edward's arm tighten around me, almost as though he were trying to protect me from something. I opened my eyes to see a very distraught little vampire looming over us.

"You should have called me immediately!" she rebuked, but I wasn't sure if she was speaking to Edward or to me.

He retorted, "If you weren't always fussing with her hair and putting ridiculous amounts of make-up on her, she wouldn't have done this in the first place."

Alice appeared slightly cowed by this. Her irate expression shifted to one more reflective of concern as she reached for a few strands of my hair. "Are you okay, Bella?" she asked me, then quickly amended, "Well, I know you will be, but how are you doing now?"

"I'm fine," I replied. I wasn't feeling too bad, all things considered. The skin on my face was a little tight, and my eye still ached a bit and remained slightly swollen, and there was an unpleasant singed odor emanating from my hair… but I was sure I hadn't done any permanent damage.

"I caught the first flight back as soon as I saw what you were doing. I tried to call, but I guess you didn't hear the phone. And then it was too late to stop you," she informed me.

"I'm sorry I used your things," I said contritely. "I'll pay for the ones I ruined."

Alice tossed her head. "Pish! No need for that. And you couldn't afford it, anyway. I just wish you'd consulted me first. A lot of those products aren't suitable for human use."

I blinked at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Rosalie and I have tinkered with some of the ingredients to make the products work better on our skin. Make-up tends to fade quickly on us."

"So that's why it irritated me so much," I confirmed.

She nodded. "Some of it. The chunk of liner in your eye was all you." She grinned, but it was out of sympathy, not derision.

Understanding was dawning on me. "And the hot rollers?" I inquired.

"Uh yeah, sorry about that," she said, looking rather repentant. "Rose modified them so that they'd heat up even more once we put them in our hair. It makes the curl last longer. Otherwise our hair just returns to its original state in a few minutes."

I sighed long-sufferingly. "I guess I should have known."

"Yes," Alice agreed, "you really should have."

Edward poked her sharply in the side, and she hopped back with a frown.

"Anyway," she continued, "it's good I'm here now, because I can see that we've got some damage repair to do."

Edward's arms tightened around me even more. "Absolutely not, Alice!" he said firmly. "It's bad enough that Carlisle had to treat her for abrasions, burns, and dermatitis. You're not getting anywhere near her face!"

"Oh relax," she said with another toss of her head. "I have no intention of touching her face. I can see that she needs time to heal. And Bella, I'm really sorry that you got hurt. I'm glad Carlisle was able to help you. But there's one thing that he really doesn't know how to treat."

"I don't understand," I said.

She reached forward to lift a chunk of my hair. "This, silly! You're in need of some very serious conditioning treatments. Your hair is fried!"

"Yeah, I guess it kind of is," I assented hesitantly.

She had already taken my hand and was trying to pull me from Edward's grasp. "Come on," she urged, "let's go get this taken care of."

"Alice…" Edward warned his sister.

"Calm down!" she scolded. "I won't go near her face. I promise."

I suppose he could hear the truth within her mind, because he let me go, shooting to his feet as soon as I was up.

"Be careful," he cautioned as she dragged me away. I wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or to me…

Either way, I think both Alice and I knew that the afternoon's unfortunate events would never be repeated again.

* * *

><p><em>The End<em>


End file.
